


No Control, No Control, No Control (Stozier)

by beepbeepliv



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, alcohol mention, blood mention, im v shit at smut so not really nsfw, mild sexy stuff, richie got in a fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 17:19:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13908660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beepbeepliv/pseuds/beepbeepliv
Summary: “Oh Richie,” was all that Stan said upon opening the door to see his, somehow still smiling, boyfriend covered in bruises, “What have you done now?”





	No Control, No Control, No Control (Stozier)

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a nsfw drabble bc i wanted to work on my porn but I’m still shit at it so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> (not edited will probs get to that later lmao)

“Oh Richie,” was all that Stan said upon opening the door to see his, somehow still smiling, boyfriend covered in bruises, “What have you done now?” He tapped his foot against the door pane to calm his nerves.

Tap, tap, tap.

“Protecting your honour, baby!” Richie replied, words slightly slurred; Of course he was drunk. Stan rolled his eyes as Richie began twisting his body and raising his eye brows in a way he assumed was supposed to look sexy. He, initially ready to make fun of Richie for the terrible Austin Powers impression, paused when said boy winced in pain. He must have been more hurt under his shirt as well. Stan bit back the urge to get angry, he couldn’t understand why Richie always tried to play it down.

What a fucking idiot!

It took him a few moments too long to realise that Bill was stood next to Richie, holding him up. Then, lost staring at the mottled maroon bruises on Richie’s face alongside his blood coated t-shirt, it took him even longer to realise that Bill had started talking. Slowly, he turned to face the taller boy and blinked. Bill sighed.

“S-some boys on the t-team were mouthing off about the cheerle-le-leaders,” Stan nodded once, twice, thrice before turning back to Richie, feigning calmness.

“You got knifed because some boys were making fun of me for being a male cheerleader? Richie, that is such old news. You know they just do that to get a rise out of you! How could you be so stupid? Do you want to get kicked off the team?”

“You can’t be mad of me for sticking up for my boy.” Richie argued, pushing off Bill slightly as he waved his arms about to further his point. He wobbled, dangerously close to the edge of the steps and Stan automatically jerked forward to steady him. Richie smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and licking Stan’s cheek, “Rabid Lions couldn’t stop me when I’m—"

“It wasn’t just that, St-stan,” Bill interrupted glaring at Richie who fell suspiciously silent and took a small step away. Stan raised his eyebrows expectantly when neither of the boys offered him any further explanation.

Tap, tap, tap against the door pane.

“Are you serious? Whatever they said, I can handle it. I’m a whole grown man; this isn’t high school.” He retorted, crossing his arms.

“I’m gonna go clean up!” Richie muttered, still uncharacteristically quiet as he nudged past Stan and walked into his flat. Stan shot Bill a bewildered look, gesturing wildly between him and Richie’s retreating figure. The older boy just sighed once again, rubbing his temple in frustration. Stan hugged his dressing gown tighter around him and leaned against his door post; he could practically feel the bags forming under his eyes.

“Can I?” Bill said, lifting the bags in his hands which Stan assumed contained Richie’s things. He nodded slowly, stepping back and shutting the door behind himself once Bill had walked past. He didn’t step in any further though, not wanting to get comfortable until he had the full story. He watched as Bill dumped Richie’s stuff round the foot of the sofa and headed to the fridge to grab a  glass of water. He’d been round enough times to know where everything was and to not have to ask for something as rudimentary as a drink, but Stan was still annoyed at him for wasting time.

He heard a soft thump from upstairs then the expected sound of Richie swearing in pain and shot Bill a tired look. Stan always knew this would be a possibility upon moving in with Richie. Even when they were only casually dating, he was often looking after his boy. Rowdy boy, as Stan had taken to calling him, couldn’t have rung anymore true. It was almost 1 in the morning. The only real comfortable place for Stan at this time would be his bed, his barely awake state just made the situation even more stressful.

“Look,” Bill finally started, shocking Stan from his thoughts “There was a lot of alcohol, some g-gu-guys from the team got pretty drunk and started t-talking about… about which cheerleaders they would… s-s-spend the night with and what they’d do. Your n-n-name cropped up quite a lot,” Stan was shocked. “B-b-basically, Richie overheard and wasn’t very happy with it! Eddie r-rang me so I w-went out to ta-take his call; when I got back he was t-taking them all on. I-I mean he held up p-pretty well but whe-when it’s at least 7 against 1…” He trailed off.

Stan threw his head back against the wall once, twice, three times. That made sense; it was exactly in character for Richie.

“Fuck,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Bill agreed.

“Oh Richie, _fucking hell_ , thank you for bringing him home, Bill,” Bill shot him a look, “I know, but if you weren’t there… who knows what could have—just thanks.”

“You’re welcome Stan.”

Bill stayed for a few minutes, to keep Stan company while the pair could hear the shower running. Then he received a worried phone call from Eddie and was off. Stan leant him a coat since he was only wearing jean shorts and the team’s token _‘shit shirt’_ (Stan would never get jocks).

“Good l-luck with him,” Bill said once he was stood at the door, and Stan leaned against the frame, once again, looking up at him. There was once a time when he thought Bill had hung the moon, he believed Bill had all the stars in his eyes and would have done basically anything for him. He still believed that to an extent. Bill was an enigma, but he wasn’t Stan’s to unwrap. He could never compare, would always feel inadequate. Eddie wasn’t, he could always keep up.

And looking at Bill now, glowing in the moonlight, wrapped tight in one of Mike’s coats, Stan couldn’t even feel bitter about it; and the time when he would’ve had long gone.

“Thanks Big Bill,” he breathed, hoping it relayed everything he wanted to say. Bill just nodded with a smile as if he understood. Stan stayed put for a moment watching him drive of to ensure he was alright before heading up to the bed room.

He locked, unlocked, locked, unlocked and locked the front door, then took the corridor three floor planes at a time till he reached the bedroom door.

Twist, twist, twist.

He opened the door.

Richie was sat, on the end of the bed, by Stan’s dresser, staring down at the porcelain Robin he, for some reason, loved. He was already in his pyjamas, hair still wet from his shower. No glasses, no Hawaiian shirt, no walls up. Stan approached carefully.

“Richie, Bill told me what happened.” Stan saw his shoulders tense up, “I just don’t get why you acted out so much. I’m right here, why don’t you just open up?”

“Ha, ‘why don’t you open up’ name of your sex tape,” Richie commented flatly, still looking down at the ornament. Stan stormed over, grabbing the Robin out of his hands and throwing it down unto the bed. He cupped Riche’s face in his palms and pulled so they were making eye contact.

“Richard, what exactly did they say that bothered you so much?” Richie sighed, pulling back and taking Stan’s hands in his.

“I’m guessing Bill told you about the start,” Stan nodded, “But Eddie called him, so he left to take the call and it… it got worse. They, um,” When it didn’t seem like he was going to continue, Stan gently squeezed his hand and sent him what he hoped was an encouraging look.

“What is it?”

“They just started taking bets. Stupid dick stuff, I mostly ignored it, but then… one guy bet.” Richie couldn’t even get through the sentence without letting out a bitter laugh, “bet something fucking vile about you that I cant even bare to repeat.” Stan felt shivers run down his spine, “I finally spoke up. Said I didn’t think you’d like that very much. He said— ha, he said, and I quote, it didn’t matter what you wanted, he could just take it and move on,” Scratch that, Stan felt like hot needles were being pressed into his skin.

“What?” he choked out,

“It was like hot rage bubbling up in the pit of my stomach and I had to interfere Stanny, I couldn’t just sit back and let them plan a—mmphf,” the start of his rambling were cut of by Stan lunging forward and pressing a bruising kiss to his lips. Richie gasped in shock and Stan took that as an opportunity to insert his tongue into the taller boy’s mouth, sliding down into his lap.

“Stan—I, what?” Richie mumbled as the other boy trailed the kisses down towards his neck, “I—I, _god_ , I thought you were…” he trailed of when Stan looked back up at him, eyes glazed over and panting.

“Thank you,” he breathed against Richie’s mouth, hands frantically trying to unclasp the buttons on Richie’s shirt as he pushed his back down unto the bed. His brain was running a mile a minute, mostly thinking how stupid, stupid, stupid his boyfriend was for getting into a fight he couldn’t win again but also just feeling antsy and sort of needing to get as close to Richie as possible. Once he’d managed to get the damn buttons open he leaned back in to nip at Richie’s lips whilst taking advantage of Richie’s newly exposed skin.

The position wasn’t the most comfortable. The damn Robin was digging into Richie’s back and Stan was definitely going to get a neck cramp from the way he was hunched over but he’d be damned if he let up now.

“Stan, Stan. C’mon Stan,” Richie murmured and eventually Stan pulled back, leaning his forehead against Richie’s cheek, breath hot on his neck. “Are you sure about this?” he asked softly, shifting slightly and leaning up unto his forearms in a way that shifted Stan down from resting high on hips so he was sat on his lap.

“God, Richie I,” Stan whimpered, voice cutting of as he gripped Richie’s shoulders tightly, twisting his hips down frantically, “Ooo Richie, Richie, Richie,”

“Right, right. Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool ,cool, cool, coooool,” Richie breathed, staring unabashedly as Stan threw his head back and just _used_ him to get off. His throat ran dry when the younger boy opened his eyes to send him a heated look.

“Damn it Richie, I will get my self off on my own if you don’t—” Stan let out a chocked gasp when Richie lifted his arms to grip at his hips and thrust up toward his boyfriend, stilling Stan’s own grinding; he whined.

“What was that baby,”

“Richie…”

“no, no what were you saying?” He pressed, holding back a laugh as Stan’s heated look faded to his usual glare. He quickly hooked one of his legs around Stan’s hips and pushed up with his own hips, flipping them around on the bed. Stan let out a long breath in surprise. “Are you sure, Stanny?”

“Richie, you took on 7 guys because you thought there was a slight chance they would attack me,” Stan deadpanned, looking up at Richie earnestly “so, yes, I want to have sex you right now.” Richie nodded,

“Okay… okay, yeah.”

“and it seems you want to have sex with me too..?” Stan finished, glancing, not so subtly, down at Richie’s jeans where he was very evidently hard. Richie rolled his eyes.

“Well, duh, have you seen yourself. I always want to have se with you!” Stan smirked and leaned up on his arms to press another deep kiss to Richie’s mouth and this time, the older boy reciprocated heartily. Kicking Stan’s legs open so he could press in closer, he slipped a hand under the boys shirt. Stan gasped and Richie took that opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth, till his hand reached Stan’s nipple and tweaked the small bud.

The younger boy pulled away, heaving breaths as Richie kissed down his neck and sucked along his collar bone.

“What do u want from me baby?” he murmured and he began slowly unbuttoning Stan’s shirt.

“my mouth? My hand? My dick?” Stan groaned and his hips jolted up, Richie grinned, “You like that babe, you want me to fuck you?”

And Stan did, he really did. But it was nearing 2 in the morning and he had an 8AM lecture to get to.

“Yes, God, yes, but, n-no time. Just—just your hand, please.”

“Anything for you my sweet,” Richie leaned back in to press another hot kiss to Stan’s lips and slowly grinded they hips together, causing Stan’s mouth to drop open. He gripped tightly unto Richie’s biceps and wrapped his legs around the older boys waist to get a bit more leverage as his heavy breaths turned into pants.

Richie made to pull back and get Stan’s slacks unzipped when the younger boy whined and pulled him back.

“what’s up baby?”

“Don’t—don’t stop,” Stan breathed and Richie got it, his concerned look fading into a smirk.

“Oh, do you think you can come just from this? Is that it?” Stan could only nod, as he threw his head back against the bed, he was already on edge and didn’t figure he’d last very long, so when Richie leaned down into his eyes line.

“C’mon Stanny, come for me, just relax and let go,” he couldn’t help it. He felt his boy seize up as he was hit with a wave of euphoria and sank back into the bed as he tried to catch his breath. He could vaguely feel Richie rutting against his leg, chasing his own release. Distantly, he knew he should help him out and wanted to but could barely keep his eyes open.

“ _Uh_ , Stan, yea—wait, are you asleep right now? God dammit it Stan, you lazy, hot, piece of—” was the last thing Stan heard before he crashed, trusting that Richie would clean him up to a decent state.

Not trusting him to set an early alarm but he was too tired to move and hoped that just once he could rely on his body clock.

He couldn’t; he missed his lecture.

**Author's Note:**

> follow my [ tumblr ](http://beepbeepliv.tumblr.com) if you want :)  
> I'm always taking requests


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